


Miasma Theory

by terpsichorean



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 14:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2391926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terpsichorean/pseuds/terpsichorean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack finds out something he would have preferred not to know. Takes place during 2x12.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miasma Theory

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the prompt from the kink meme which called for Jack finding out about the full extent of Will and Hannibal's relationship and confronting Will about. The full prompt is located here: http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/3819.html?thread=7116523  
> The italic text at the beginning was taken from 2x12.

“ _Nothing makes us more vulnerable than loneliness, Agent Crawford.”_

“ _Will’s not alone.”_

“ _ No. He’s not.”  _

  
  


Freddie Lounds smoothed her skirt as she sat, settling herself straight backed and precise in her chair. On the table in front of her lay an unremarkable brown envelope. She crossed her hands on top of it, looked Jack in the eyes, and smiled. 

Her behaviour hadn't changed in the slightest, despite it leading to her supposed death. Jack would admire her tenacity if it wasn't so often a thorn in his side. 

Jack sat in the chair opposite her. The safe house they had placed her in was small and sparse, only really meant for housing someone briefly between movements. He felt boxed in and claustrophobic, like there wasn't enough room for the two of them. Still, he made himself comfortable in the slightly wobbly chair and leaned forward, imitating Lounds and folding his hands. He made sure to meet her eyes and returned her smile. 

After a brief pause, she glanced down at the table. 

“Thank you for coming, Agent Crawford. I realize this must have been inconvenient for you. You are a busy man, after all.” 

“I am, Ms. Lounds. It certainly doesn't help when someone requests a meeting and refuses to tell me what it's about.” 

Lounds looked back up at him, sympathy expertly painted across her face. “Again, I apologize Agent Crawford. However, the information is highly sensitive. I didn't feel comfortable telling just anyone. I felt it more prudent to speak directly to you.” 

Jack leaned back slightly, gesturing her to continue. He tried to ignore the clenching of his gut, like a stone dropping into his stomach. Highly sensitive information. It could only be about Will and Lecter. 

Lounds paused again, although this time Jack sensed it was not for dramatic effect or an attempt at controlling the conversation. She seemed almost reluctant, something Jack had never seen from her. He was suddenly certain he had absolutely no desire to hear anything more. 

Lounds laid one of her hands flat against the envelope in front of her. Then she slowly slid it across the table to Jack. Then she folded her hands in front of her again, that same reluctance coloring all of her movements. 

“After Will Graham was released, I was curious what his actions would be. His return to Dr. Lecter's consulting room was an intriguing decision that I deemed to require further investigation.” 

Jack read between the lines of her carefully chosen words. “You mean you were stalking him.” 

Lounds huffed. “I prefer the term 'surveillance', but call it what you want. At the time I believed I was watching the evolution of a killer, under the tutelage of the Chesapeake Ripper. Now, of course, I realize that it was all to further the FBI's investigation. But, in the course of my  _ own _ investigation, I managed to capture some images that may interest you.” 

Jack waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he bit back a sigh, and looked down at the envelope in front of him. It seemed now to be a bomb, ticking merrily away until opened and the trigger tripped. 

The photos could be anything. Will taking down the blood-stained Clark Ingram. Will killing Randall Tier. Or worse, mutilating and displaying the corpse. 

Once Jack removed the photos and spread them out, he almost wished they were of Will stretching Tier's flesh over the skeleton of a prehistoric mammal. 

There were three photos. The first was fairly innocuous: it showed Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter leaving the latter's house. Will was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the front door, his bag slung over one shoulder. He was looking up at Lecter, who seemed to be locking the door. 

The second still seemed quite innocent. They were now walking to their respective vehicles, Lecter placing the hand that wasn't holding his briefcase on Will's lower back as if to guide him over the ice. 

The third was the one that made Jack's blood run cold. 

They were standing beside Will's car. Lecter must have opened the driver's door, considering his position beside it. His free hand was cradling Will's face, thumb against Will's ear with his fingers in his hair. One of Will's hands was at Lecter's collar, starting to clench, while the other was sneaking under his open coat. His bag was perched precariously, threatening to fall from his shoulder. 

They were kissing. 

Jack stared, he didn't know for how long. He was eventually brought back to reality by Lounds politely clearing her throat. He tore his eyes away from the train wreck visible in glossy 4x6 prints to again see that calculated sympathy on her face. She smiled. 

“Like I said, highly sensitive material.” 

Jack couldn't help the way his eyes strayed back to the third photo, like a particularly grisly corpse. Bloody and accusing. “When did you take these?”

“Shortly before my death. But I wouldn't be surprised to learn this wasn't a first encounter for them.” At Jack's glance at her, she shrugged. “These were taken in the early morning. Graham had been there all night.” 

Which was the exact opposite of what Jack wanted to hear. “Why are you telling me about them now?” 

Lounds smiled and looked at the wall behind him before meeting his eyes again. Bitterness peaked out from behind her placidity. “At the time, I believed this was just the next logical step between them. They were already killing together, why not sleep together? Maybe murder was just their idea of foreplay. Then I found out that Graham was actually undercover. Believe what you want about me, but I'm not actually heartless. And I knew that this could jeopardize the investigation. I thought it worthy of your attention.” 

Jack stared into her eyes for a moment. She didn't fidget at all, just stared straight back. 

He tapped the photos, refusing to return his attention to them. The final one seemed seared into his retinas anyway. He could easily imagine Lecter's fingers stroking further through Will's hair, Will's hand completing the clench in Lecter's collar and pulling him closer. It was the kind of kiss shared between lovers who knew each other intimately and couldn't bear to be apart. Striving to be as close as possible, wanting to inhabit the same place in the world, to become one for only a brief moment. Jack had shared many like them with Bella. 

“Is this the only copy of these photos?” 

Lounds hesitated, then nodded, looking sheepish and a little angry. “Yes.”

Jack huffed a laugh. “You're an awful liar, Ms. Lounds.” 

She frowned. 

Jack leaned forward, intentionally making his body language emphasize his size, the fact he was bigger than her. Classic intimidation tactic, but it seemed to have at least a slight effect judging by her blink. 

“I obviously don't need to tell you exactly how sensitive this is. It is potentially compromising information of an ongoing investigation into one of the most prolific serial killers America has ever seen. I suspect your motivation to reveal these photos to me have more to do with attempting to extort information from me rather than a change of heart regarding Will Graham. I will be getting a warrant to seize your other copies of these.” 

He held up a hand to cut her off when she began to protest. “And if you feel the need to post these somewhere online before I get the warrant, I don't need to remind you that one of the men pictured here is a serial killer -”

“Yes, and the other is the Chesapeake Ripper.” 

Jack continued as if she hadn't spoken. “- and I highly doubt he would appreciate his privacy being violated in such a fashion. Think about that before you feel the need to pass these on to someone else.” 

He gathered the three photos up and replaced them in the envelope, doing his best to ignore their content. His brain could still barely process it. He stood and inclined his head in a nod. 

“Always a pleasure, Ms. Lounds.” 

She bared her teeth in what could have been a smile or a snarl. 

 


End file.
